


Your Eyes Speak a Richness of Feeling

by gotfanfiction



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Angst, Animal Death, Canon Compliant, Eventual Happy Ending, Falling In Love, Fluff, Hair Braiding, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Pining, What Have I Done, Yearning, all that good shit, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23626099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotfanfiction/pseuds/gotfanfiction
Summary: Jaskier has an unconventional daemon. Geralt's is what one would expect a Witcher's to be. There's more to it, of course, if you care to look.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 176
Kudos: 743





	1. Two Who Are One

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter fic which kind of exploded into something else entirely.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier had gasped at the feeling, all at once knowing that this was perfect, this was _them_ , but not really understanding why.

Jaskier was as surprised as anyone else would be when Madeleine settled into a great, brown bear. One moment she was perched on his bed, as always, a sweetly singing bird, and the next he needed a new bed, as the enormous daemon had broken the frame under her weight.

Jaskier had gasped at the feeling, all at once knowing that this was perfect, this was _them_ , but not really understanding why. Maddy just clambered off the ruined mattress and made herself comfortable under the window. 

Of course his family had a great deal to say about this; about what a disaster it was, and why did he have to be so outrageous and Jaskier, who had been Julian then, had felt a terrible sort of shudder go through him, and his lovely, his sweet and gentle, Madeleine had reared up and roared at them.

"This is who we are!" His family gaped and trembled, shocked, because Julian, who was really Jaskier, and Maddy, they did not make themselves known this way. "We are two who are one! There is no fault with us, anymore than there is with you and yours! Be small and petty, but do it without us!"

He could feel her outrage and her pain, because they were each other and they loved these people who were never happy with them, and he knew that this was the last time they would look at their family as their family.

They left that evening, the two of them, bags already packed, and Jaskier, who would never be Julian again, felt free for the first time in his life.

\--**--

There was something freeing about being with Geralt. The witcher didn't seem to care that Madeleine was immense and frightening, most likely because _he_ was immense and frightening. Jaskier couldn't help but wonder, though, if, like his dear Maddy, there was more to him than just those two things. 

Maddy nudged him with her shoulder, which sent him staggering, and rolled her eyes at him. "Shouldn't you be thinking about something else, for a change?" 

Geralt looked back, eyebrows raised. Jaskier... didn't blush, but it was close. 

"Shut up," he hissed, avoiding Geralt's clearly amused gaze. "I'm not thinking about anything, and we are _not_ having this discussion right now." 

Maddy just shook her head. "Whatever you say, little me." 

Kalena snorted at the nickname, but said nothing, as was her way, but Jaskier could tell by now, having traveled with the pair for nearly a month, that she and Geralt were both laughing at him. 

At least, laughing silently. The wolf daemon was almost as taciturn as Geralt, but she did seem to enjoy their company. Or found them amusing enough to be worth tolerating. 

Kalena was as white and raggedly worn as her other half, and seemed liable to bolt out of her skin at any moment, but Jaskier had seen her when she snarled and snapped at those she did _not_ tolerate, and knew that he and Maddy were welcome.


	2. Cursed Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cursed with ugliness in their hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm chunking everything up bc I don't want to get anyone's hopes up with a couple big chapters.

Jaskier could see, sometimes, why people were scared of witchers. He couldn't imagine being able to leave his Maddy behind, out of sight, out of _reach_ , the way Geralt could leave Kalena. Seeing someone walking around without their daemon felt instinctively wrong. 

But soon it just became one more thing that Geralt and Kalena could do. You couldn't deny that it was useful, and Jaskier knew from experience that having a larger daemon was sometimes a hassle, especially when looking for accommodations. 

Maddy huffed at him from her place next to the fire. She knew what he was thinking, because she always did, and knew he loved her just as she was. Still, finding a place that didn't mind letting a bear and a wolf sleep inside was a pain. 

Geralt ignored them both, focused on cleaning his swords as meticulously as he had his armor. The witcher was obviously less bothered by their less than warm reception hours ago, or at least so used to it that he had become inured, after a fashion. 

Kalena had bared her teeth at the innkeeper; the man's cat daemon hissing at them from behind his legs. Jaskier had a feeling, however, that if it had been only Madeleine and himself the innkeeper would not have been so adamant. 

"Superstitious idiots, all of them," Jaskier tossed a handful of leaves into the fire. "How can they say these things to you when all you've ever done is keep them safe? 'Cursed souls' indeed; if anyone is cursed it's them. Hah! Cursed with ugliness in their hearts." 

Kalena sighed. "It's how life is. We know what it means to walk the Path." 

Jaskier felt his face fold down into a frown, but didn't argue with her. He knew. He was the one trying to resuscitate their reputation, and he knew it would take more than a song or two to do so. 

Still. 

"It's not fair," Madeleine, the dear, shuffled to make room for Jaskier next to her, "It's not right. We know this. That's why we want to help you." 

Geralt snorted, finally deciding his weapons were clean enough for now. "Are you sure you're not following us around to get fame for yourselves?" He set the swords to the side of his bedroll, but twitched when Maddy growled at him. 

"We are your friend, Geralt, whether you want us or not. And even if we were not we would help you anyways." She thumped one of her great paws on the ground, irritated. "Of course we want fame, and fortune. We want to be seen and heard and recognized, but we wanted those things long before we met you, and if we can get what we want and help you at the same why not do it?" 

Jaskier burrowed further into his daemon, embarrassed that she'd said so much about them, but not particularly caring. Geralt was staring at them with a peculiar sort of expression, but Kalena, who hardly even let her other half near her, abruptly stood, made her way to them, and pressed the whole of her body against Maddy, right next to Jaskier. 

Everyone froze. Daemons only touched each other as signs of great trust. Daemons didn't touch humans besides their own at all unless said humans were extremely close. Maddy huffed at the new weight against her side, but didn't protest it. 

Geralt just stared at his daemon, who clicked her teeth at him and snuggled in deeper. Not that Jaskier could blame her; his Madeleine was supremely comfortable, soft and warm, and always happy to cuddle. 

Eventually, they all went to sleep, and if Geralt had moved to be closer to them, well, Jaskier wasn't going to say anything about that. 

**--** 

Madeleine hadn't stopped growling since the attack. Jaskier, freshly bandaged and shaken to his core, couldn't blame her. He was as physically close to her as he could get, and they must have looked a fright, because Kalena was braced on his other side. 

Geralt was nearly done setting up their new camp, a good distance away from the remains of the bandits who had set upon them hours before. 

Now, normally, they would have taken one look at his dear witcher friend, and his even dearer Maddy girl, and fled, but they had either been desperate or overly confident, and had attacked. 

Geralt had heard them coming, of course, but had assumed that they would avoid them, and neither of them were prepared for it. 

Jaskier had only managed to dodge a crossbow bolt out of sheer luck, him twisting to the side to playfully swipe at Kalena, who had been snipping at his heels in a rare fit of good humor. The bolt grazed him, leaving a stinging line of pain across his arm, and embedded itself into Maddy's shoulder. 

He may as well have been shot himself, his scream ripping through the air as Madeleine roared. The bandits fell on them in force, Geralt and Kelena fighting fierce as always, but there were so many, and they really weren't expecting this. Not losing, but they probably wouldn't walk away unscathed. 

So Maddy did something unthinkable. She snapped her jaws around the nearest daemon, a rangy dog, and crushed it. She grabbed another, this one a drab little bird, and whipped it into a tree. 

You could hardly hear the crunch over the agonized screams of the men his Maddy was brutalizing. She lunged for another, and another, and the bandits were so concerned with keeping their daemons away from her monstrously large teeth that they hardly seemed to remember Geralt and Kalena, who made short work of the horrified interlopers. 

Jaskier was weeping in panic, in pain, when Maddy slumped over and joined him in tears. Geralt packed up the few things they'd managed to set up for the night, threw Jaskier onto Roach, and got the group moving. 

When they'd gotten far enough away for Geralt's sensibility, he had carefully pulled the bolt from Maddy, who was snarling and furious, and there was nothing to be done for her after that, but Jaskier had a hole in his shoulder, now, that could be stitched up and cared for. 

Geralt did just that, his usually grim face twitching in badly repressed worry. Jaskier could still feel the give of the daemon in between his teeth, feel Maddy's horror at herself, feel the determination and love that helped her power through it. 

The snap would stay with him for the rest of his life. He didn't regret it much. 

"How are you?" Geralt was clearly uncomfortable asking this, but just as clearly was more worried. "Are you- do you think you-" he sighed. "I know that something like what you did is taboo. Will you be alright?" 

Jaskier nodded, his hand buried in Kalena's scruff, Madeleine's growling finally tapering off. "We'll be just fine, Geralt, don't you worry. We don't regret keeping you two safe, whatever it takes." 

Geralt 'hmmm'd, but sat back with the smallest of smiles tucked into the corners of his mouth. Kalena stayed with them, though, and Jaskier could almost start crying again at the feeling. His sleep would not be restful tonight, but he had his girls, and Geralt, who he knew would not sleep, here with him. It was a great comfort. 

**--**


	3. Good Days, and Bad Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It would never be written anywhere other than his head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got bit by the fic bug and have produced another update

Jaskier lounged on the sun warm grass, fingers idly plucking a new tune for a half thought out poem; it would never be written anywhere other than his head, too many references to striking features and bone white hair, but it was something to do. It was a good day for this sort of thing. 

Maddy was splashing in the river, pouncing on innocent fish and cackling in delight. Each swing of her paw sent another unfortunate fish flying, straight into Kalena's waiting jaws, who would then deposit it into Geralt's lap. 

Judging by the witcher's expression, he did not enjoy his watery presents leaking over his trousers, but he gutted each one carefully, making sure to deposit the innards in the sack he usually used for monster bits. 

Jaskier grinned as he hummed, Geralt shooting him a look that spoke of his grisly end if he didn't put an end to the girls' fun. Geralt was nearly always the one to spoil the mood, but he'd been very considerate so far, so Jaskier raised his head to call out to their daemons. 

"Leave some fish for everyone else, dears," He smirked at Geralt, and his soaked clothes. It vanished from his face after Madeleine swept a great wave of water directly at him. 

As he spluttered in outrage he could hear both daemons laughing at him, and something entirely unfamiliar. He blinked river sludge out of his eyes, and stared at this new sight. 

Geralt was chuckling. 

And while it was entirely at his sorry state, Jaskier thought he would take a hundred, no, a _thousand_ , impromptu river baths if it meant he could see this happen on a regular basis. 

The witcher had lovely laugh lines, his eyes crinkled into merry slits, sharp teeth bared in mirth, for once, and Jaskier could feel the traitorous pitter pat of his heart down to his toes. 

Maddy decided to shake herself off right next to the two of them, and then everyone was laughing. Jaskier's eyes met Geralt's, and it was such a wonderful feeling, and Jaskier knew that his fickle heart had settled, then, and would move for nothing. 

A good day, indeed. 

\--**-- 

Kalena had been gone for days, as far as he could tell. She hadn't even been there when Jaskier had stumbled upon Geralt, who was looking more thin than usual. Jaskier had fed his friend; had set him up in his room, made him promise to bathe and borrow whatever clothes would fit. It was hardly the first time Jaskier had happened on Geralt in such a state, but Kalena was almost always there, skirting around the edges, stealing bites from her other's plate, growling at anyone who stared too long for her liking. 

Her absence worried at him. He knew the two didn't always seem to get along, like there was some dispute that had never been put to rest between them, but they loved each other in their own way. 

For Kalena to be gone for so long meant that whatever happened had to have been worse than the pair's usual silent disagreements. 

Jaskier let a few extra coins slip into the maid's hand in exchange for a second meal. He could feel Maddy's concern from her resting place in the barn that was attached to the inn. He tried to think reassuring thoughts, but he couldn't even fool himself, let alone her. 

He let himself into the room, busied himself with arranging the food and drink while Geralt finished shrugging into Jaskier's loosest sleeping clothes. 

"Here, eat this while I take care of that bird's nest on your head," Jaskier gently shooed Geralt into the chair, grabbing his things while the witcher slowly began to eat. 

Jaskier set to work untangling the multitude of knots, as carefully as possible, saying nothing about the occasional twig that fell out, just keeping his hands firm and steady. 

He hummed as he rubbed oil into his friend's hair and scalp, and kept it up until some of the tension eased from Geralt's shoulders. 

Jaskier braided the hair from Geralt's face, tied off with a bit of ribbon he'd stolen from a lovely young lady, and let himself sigh in relief. "That looks so much better. I know you don't care over much how you look but you can't deny it at least _feels_ better, too." 

Geralt shrugged Jaskier off. "Perhaps. Maybe I just like how quiet you are while you work." 

Jaskier scoffed. "I'm never quiet. Now, to bed with you. Irritable witchers need their beauty sleep." 

Geralt laid down with minimal fuss. Jaskier swallowed as he tidied up. The witcher was already asleep, but Jaskier wasn't sure he could join him for a while more. He would normally go and perform, but then Geralt would be alone and, well. He didn't want that. 

So he sat and worked on some poetry until his eyelids started to feel heavy, then slipped into bed with his friend. 

Geralt didn't even twitch. Soon they were both asleep. 

\--**-- 

Jaskier flinched at the touch of something cold on his cheek. 

"Wake up. But don't move." 

His eyes shot open, and he held as still as he could. Kalena was staring at him, her eyes glinting in the low light. She looked so very terrible, thin and rangy and unhappy. Maddy was awake, sending him calming thoughts. 

Kalena nudged him again, and he lifted the blankets to let her squirm underneath them. He was so used to her sleeping almost on top of him that the fact that this was alarmingly intimate didn't even register. 

If his friends had need of comfort he would give it to them, no matter what they needed. He was almost asleep again, when he felt another cold thing push against the back of his neck. 

When he woke the next morning Geralt was already moving about, eating and muttering to himself as he glanced into his pack. Jaskier shivered, but even as Kalena pushed closer to warm him he still trembled. 

_Geralt had kissed him, last night._


	4. Softly, Somewhere Sleeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier didn't bring it up, because he knew his friend would either deny it or leave forever and ever, but he thought of the kiss often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii, it's an update! Thanks to everyone who's left a comment and has stuck around despite my nonexistent posting schedule -3-
> 
> P.S. sorry for the angst bomb

Jaskier didn't bring it up, because he knew his friend would either deny it or leave forever and ever, but he thought of the kiss often. 

They would part ways often, as they each had their own lives to lead, and as Jaskier made his round through various courts the thought of it would send a shiver through him. Absolutely ridiculous, honestly. He was embarrassed at himself, to be so distracted by something so small. 

But that was love for you, he supposed. Makes fools of the best of us. He felt a brush of amusement from Maddy. She was having a great amount of fun watching him fail to deal with this. 

She also urged him to speak with Geralt about this, which was lunacy. There wasn't a single thing he could say that wouldn't send the other man running for the hills, and she knew it. 

But still, somewhere deep in his heart, there was hope. He would sneak out of his own rooms like a child to curl up with Madeleine, to dream of sharp teeth and golden eyes in peace. 

Perhaps the next time they saw each other he would say something. Perhaps. 

\--**-- 

Their other selves were sleeping. Madeleine was feeling tired herself, that being the nature of the bond, but Kalena was shaking again, muttering under her breath and swinging her head back and forth from her spot next to the larger daemon. 

She leaned more of her weight off the other, trying to give Kalena more space to move, but the wolf wasn't having any of that; she simply shoved herself harder into Maddy's side. 

If she asked, Kalena would snap about the cold, or about safety. She would look towards where Jaskier and Geralt lay, wrapped around each other, beneath every blanket they had. 

Maddy, of course, would ignore the fact that the cold wouldn't affect them so long as their others were warm, would curl around Kalena, her wretchedly dear friend, would hum soothing lullabies until the trembling eased, would lay awake as Kalena finally staggered into sleep. 

Would consider the mumblings of the other daemon, "It's wrong, we're wrong, it hurts _it hurts_." 

Would think, _how strange, that **all** witchers have wolves for daemons_, would quietly watch all her people sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.P.S no I'm not ;>


	5. Aching, breaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Jaskier wondered, every time, if this was the time it would happen, if this time he would be brave, lean forward into that first kiss._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well, here I am with an update, and it's only been like, months. Enjoy, everyone!

The truth of the matter was this: Jaskier could not say for certain if Geralt felt anything more for him than friendship. What would the cost of confession be? Would it simply be a few days of awkwardness and embarrassment? Or would it cost Jaskier the man himself? 

He didn't know. 

Maddy had shaken her head, but she also said nothing, which meant she, too, was unsure. Jaskier knew their mismatched little group was outrageously over familiar with each other, made up of lonely people, desperate for real intimacy, knew that they all needed the closeness. 

And so he said nothing. Just sat and stared and pined and wrote awful poetry and hoped that one day, Geralt would finally look up and see it written all over his face, how much he loved him. 

They met, over and over again, somehow always running into each other, almost like fate. 

Jaskier wondered, every time, if this was the time it would happen, if this time he would be brave, lean forward into that first kiss. However, fate was fickle, and as a bard he should have known that better than anyone, but still here he was now, caught by surprise. 

This outfit was fit only for rags now, not that he could bring himself to care about that at the moment. Geralt, it seemed, had met his match. Explosively, even. He couldn't imagine a more appropriate lover for a Witcher than a sorceress, and an especially beautiful one at that. 

He and the elf, whose name he hadn't caught, what with the dying and spewing of blood every which way, staggered away to, presumably, drink their respective heartaches away. At least, that was Jaskier's plan. 

He could feel Maddy responding to his plummeting mood, felt her own dive down to meet with his, and, call him petty, but he took some grim satisfaction when the elf flinched as Maddy revealed herself with a hacking growl. 

They would go back to Jaskier's pitiful little camp, drink that lovely bottle of wine he'd stolen from...somewhere, and put out of their minds beautiful people fucking each other stupid in the ruins of a house. 

**--** 

Serafina hated him, and his Maddy girl, hissing in affront whenever they so much as breathed in her direction. Jaskier didn't take it to heart; Serafina hated everyone and everything besides her other half, and Yennefer was hardly the only person to have a bad tempered daemon. 

It wasn't like he didn't hate the both of them right back, resentment burning high in his throat every time their paths crossed. Geralt was pulling away from him, more and more with every chance happening, and any fool with eyes could tell that Jaskier had missed his chance. 

He'd had several, too, and in the end the only one he could blame for it was himself. His only condolence was that Kalena, apparently, had yet to warm up to the sorceress or her snake daemon. Serafina was as beautiful as Yennefer, iridescent in the light, twining elegantly around her shoulders, the finest jewelry a woman could hope for. But Kalena would refuse all attempts to be coaxed nearer, barely tolerating even the most gentle touch from either. Jaskier wasn't above admitting to his petty satisfaction. 

He may not have his Witcher's heart, but he had his trust, his soul pushing her thick fur under his hands, for comfort and companionship both. It was a gift, one he would never refuse, welcoming his friend with open arms even as Geralt fell into someone else's. 

In the end, Yennefer seemed to make Geralt happy, for whatever reason, and Jaskier was a bit of a bastard, but he'd take Geralt's happiness over his in a heartbeat. And if he shed a few tears over the whole mess, well, he was entitled to that, he felt. 

Madeleine whispered lullabies to him in the dark, when it seemed like he was the only person awake in the whole world, heart aching in his chest, not even bothering to buy a room for himself some nights, curled up with his soul in a warm stable, grieving a thing he'd never had. 

**--** 

_**"If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!"**_

**--** 

So many things had happened in such a short time, death and love and grief and heartbreak, his and others as well, and Jaskier was weary beyond all measure. 

Kalena had whimpered, a sound he had never heard her make, head and tail low, sagging body still tensed for escape at any moment, but Jaskier couldn't have, just then, brought himself to comfort her. 

So he had left, instead, the way his best friend, the love of his life had wanted him to. He kept going, because he might as well, because he needed to, stayed as busy as he could, wrote scathing songs and maudlin ballads he would rip into pieces and toss into a fire, mourning and angry with it. 

He went back to teaching, for a time. They needed the stability, and Oxenfurt would always welcome him back happily. Maddy stayed close as she could, exactly where he wanted her, and soon enough the novelty of them had worn off, people moving by instinct out of their way, but no longer gaping in shock. 

But Jaskier wasn't built for this, for staying in one place while the world outside was still shifting and changing and turning, so he left, pockets full and spirits not high, but not low either. It was something of a puzzle, trying to rewrite the plot of his life after so many years of the same thing, but he was willing to make the attempt. Whatever happened next was up to fate, and he could only hope that for once, it would favor him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's gonna be a surprise next time, guys, I can't wait to finally be able to show you y-y


	6. Echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Kalena was angry with him. She was always angry with him, and he was always angry with her, but that was a well worn groove, and they were both so used to it that it meant nearly nothing at all, anymore. But this was different._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The twist is here uwu

Kalena was angry with him. She was always angry with him, and he was always angry with her, but that was a well worn groove, and they were both so used to it that it meant nearly nothing at all, anymore. But this was different.

It was fire brand hot, it burned at him, in his chest, in his belly. Neither of them were sleeping well, if they slept at all. It would end in their death, he was sure of it. Geralt wasn’t allowed to touch her, anymore, hackles raised and fur bristling in soul searing  _ rage, _ and it tore at him, ripped him to pieces, the scattered shards of himself blistered and unhappy. 

She had bitten him, broken their skin, blood and dust pooling to the ground, when they’d made it down the mountain and Jaskier and Madeleine were nowhere to be found, when Geralt sneered at the suggestion that they go find them, reconcile.

Not even at their worst had they hurt each like that. It didn’t last, Witcher healing being what it was, but Geralt felt the echoes of it in his heart every day. A wretched twisting in his guts, pulling him down, slowing his steps; how could he hate himself this much, when he thought more wasn’t possible?

They walk their Path, Kalena a howling specter in the distance, and Geralt is alone, their link as closed as it could ever be, and he thinks of her, and he thinks of him. He can’t help himself, he’s never been able to. 

Were Geralt a poet, he would be able to better name the feelings burning in his chest, burning in his veins, scouring through his body, sweeter than anything else, sharper than knives, gentle as the first delicate rays of sunrise on his face.

Geralt would have told him: _ I would kill to be the only, the last, I would drink from the nectar of your mouth until I died, sweep the hair falling darkly across your brow, starkly against the paleness of your skin, away, to better gaze on your face, the sight of which is the only one I wish to wake to, to fall asleep to. _

He might have said: _ I drown in the depths of your eyes, I fall into the chasm of your soul, I feel chaos, when I look at you, despair and joy warring in my breast, and I promise myself to you, you forever, love carving itself deeply into my ribs, frothing in my heart and mind and I think of no other but you. _

Geralt thinks, even now: _ My skin blistered when we touched. My heart tears at my throat when you leave. My soul yearns, my soul weeps, my soul rejoices. My hands reach for you, when you’re here with me, reach for you, in your absence. _

But Geralt isn't a poet. So he said nothing. Until he said the absolute wrong words, spitting vitriol towards a person who’s greatest crime was staying with him, seeing him and knowing him, the unbearableness of it swelling under his skin, splitting him open, the fervency of his emotions curdling into anger, and he  _ regrets. _

He regrets his words, his actions, he wants nothing else but for them to be here, again, with them, hands reaching for love and grasping nothing besides his own guilt.

And Kalena stays as far away from him as they can bear, sometimes farther, pain stinging at him, barbed like her fury, like his regret. They spend a miserable winter at Kaer Morhen, and his family learn to stay away from them, huddled on opposite sides of the ruined keep, and he spends the whole of time drinking or sleeping off his drink. 

They set off in the spring, because they must, because they are meant to walk the Path, and whatever else, they are compelled to their duty. It has always been one of the few things they agreed upon, that they had the ability, and so they would save people, as many as they could, human or otherwise. 

Kalena comes to him, once, when he’s despairing late in the night, her body warm against his, and some part of him knows it's because  _ she _ needs this, that it has nothing to do with him, but he still cards his hands through thick fur, murmurs gentle as he can, takes a step away from his self-inflicted pain, pushes every scrap of love he has in his hollowed out Witcher body towards her, knowing that she was he, they were one, their sorrow fiercely reflected in each other. 

They fall asleep, together, the way they haven't since they were both small, Geralt floating in their link, Kalena meeting him in the middle, fangs and claws tucked away, both aching and sorry with it. 

When they awake, it's to pain. He hasn't felt this sort of agony since the Trials, since he was a  _ child, _ being bent and shaped into a Witcher, into something more than human, and it pours into him like hot metal, and he can't  _ feel _ Kalena through this, can't see her, or hear her. 

Geralt awakens again, and there is no pain this time, just a joyful reverberation, and birdsong from close by. His body is stiff from clenching, and he bit through his tongue, as well, but he is, at the moment, so deliriously happy that he barely feels it. 

The feeling isn't coming from him. The birdsong gets louder as he stands, and there's a bird not much bigger than his hand, swooping around and around his head, dizzying loops and daring dives. He knows it before she lands on his shoulder, knows it before she whispers a hello into his ear, feels the faint echoes of  _ Settling, _ and he falls back to the ground and he  _ weeps. _

From joy, from grief, from months of slogging through his wretched existence, tears dripping hot and fast down his face, hands tearing at dirt still half frozen from the winter. He cries, and Kalena stays tucked under his chin, cheeping and whispering comfort. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're coming up on the end, everyone. Thank you for sticking with me for so long, and for graciously ignoring all the damn typos <333


	7. Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Jaskier and Madeleine weren't in the best shape_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter is almost 2k, which, really, my bad guys. I hope y'all enjoy!

Jaskier and Madeleine weren't in the best shape, at the moment. And to think the year had started out so fine, and was due to end with them huddled in some abandoned shack, praying that they weren't found by Nilfgaardian soldiers. It was one of the few times they both regretted Maddy's size; it would have been easier to hide if she wasn't so immense, after all, and while she was generally an enormous comfort, right at this moment they were both wishing she'd  _ Settled  _ small.

They had been fleeing the war, but not in the manner most people had been, sticking around for news to pass on, pausing at camps of hollow eyed people to sing a little life back into them, far too close to the frontlines for comfort, but what else could they do? Maddy let children of all kinds press into her large warmth, as Jaskier sat and spoke with whoever was minding them, their parents or older siblings or even just whoever had found them, wandering and lost.

The true orphans clung the hardest, and Jaskier could feel their bony little fingers digging into Maddy, into him, but what did it matter, so long as they walked away a bit soothed, with a little more peace? Maddy didn't mind, was happy to do it, and the gratitude on the faces of their minders was worth the mild discomfort. 

He was musing over the strangeness of the phenomenon, daemon touching, and why a touch from a child didn't hurt the way one from another adult might when they stumbled upon the first body. Not human, but a large brown bear, not nearly so big as his girl, so few were, killed and left to rot. They were in the woods, only just barely, just enough to keep out of sight while they traveled.

It was so wasteful, and so awful, to see the animal with a crossbow bolt in its eye, and a few more scattered about its back. Maddy sniffed at the body and sneezed explosively, disgust building in both of them. It had been dead for not very long, barely bloated, the stench not yet strong enough to attract other animals to feast. 

He couldn't imagine any of the half starved people just leaving this much food and raw material to the elements, but perhaps it had been rabid? Jaskier and Maddy exchanged a look, but kept on, neither willing to risk poisoning on the low chance the bear had been killed by some bastard for sport. He had dried fruit and meat in his pack, and there were more than enough wild plants he could eat in an emergency, the weather not yet cold enough to kill them. 

*--*

They'd found another. And a few hours after that yet another. All brown bears, big enough to rival his Maddy, all left after they'd been killed. They were worried, now, properly, panic kept at bay by the delirious thought that it couldn't possibly mean what they thought it did. Jaskier did his best not to think of how even soldiers wouldn't just leave the bodies to rot, either, armies being vastly expensive to feed and water and arm.

The last group of people they had encountered hadn't wanted much to do with them, eyes tight and suspicious, an unsettling gleam in some, and they'd stayed only long enough to trade some news for not nearly enough food. Too many hands on swords, and next to no children to temper more violent impulses. Daemons with their teeth bared or wings mantled. Untrusting, aggressive. 

Jaskier left as gracefully as he could, but still. It was unsettling, the entire experience, and they were already unsettled, and they silently agreed to avoid people as much as possible. He resolved to gather some meat from the next bear they saw, because he knew they would find one, because they had found so many, already. 

They slept with Maddy curled around him, hiding him completely, keeping him warm and safe, as she always did, his darling girl, but it wasn't restful sleep, each twitching at every noise, nerves singing loudly in the dark. He wished they could’ve gotten further away from those men, wished this whole war wasn’t happening, and he wished-

He wished Geralt were here, wished Kalena were curled up with him, wished he could see his friends one last time before he probably died horribly in the woods. 

“We’ll see them again,” Maddy chuffed against his hair. “How could we not? We’ve run into them even when we weren’t expecting to. If there is one thing that is true, it’s that we’ll always find each other.”

Gods, Maddy was so much better at this than he was, wasn’t she? Jaskier let his eyes close, managed a few hours of sleep, the day coming much too soon for his tastes, but he knew better than to laze about, especially now. 

The early start didn’t help them, in the end, a crossbow bolt thudding into a tree just as Jaskier turned his head, a streak of fire and pain across his cheek. It had been luck that kept him his life, once again, and he wondered why it was that he kept nearly dying and skirting it by sheer happenstance. 

Maddy snarled, in pain and alarm, as another bolt sunk into the earth at her feet, and she screamed, “Up, get up!” 

He had never ridden atop his daemon this way, the act seeming undignified, but dignity was for people who weren’t being hunted by soldiers, and he’d known, hadn’t he, that the bears had been a sign of it, and that they should have done a better job at staying hidden. Twenty two years of intermittent rough living weren’t enough to quiet their feet, however, and he knew, also, that they had most likely left a trail a child could follow.

Jaskier clung to Madeleine’s fur as she crashed through the forest, disturbing animals, trampling the undergrowth, and he cursed in shock when she waded through a godsdamned freezing creek, cold washing over his feet and hands, but his girl just ran on. 

He’d no idea that she was this fast, the world streaking by in a blur, branches whipping across his face, tearing at his hair and clothes, and he had had to close his eyes, to keep from losing one. She didn’t slow for hours, though he could feel fatigue creeping up higher and higher, and it wasn’t until nightfall that she stopped, body heaving, steam and dust drifting off her shaking form, in front of a dilapidated house, and collapsed.

Jaskier had to convince her to stand again, to drag herself into the wretched little place, as he certainly couldn’t do it himself. And here they were, bleeding and terrified, Jaskier knowing he needed to eat to get at least some of their strength back, but unable to bring himself to do so just yet. The shack was clearly abandoned, time wreaking it’s usual havoc, overgrown with plants and the thick smell of rotting wood. 

They stayed crouched together, hearts pounding, ears pricked for any sound at all, Jaskier swallowing a scream when a very large rat scampered right over his boot, and Maddy killed it, just in case it was someone’s clever little daemon, and he tossed the body as far away as he could, and tried to ignore the noises of it’s fellows eating their unexpected meal. 

It was daybreak when they finally unclenched their muscles and stood, Jaskier finally able to force a few bites into his stomach, nary a sound heard for hours, outside the general noises of animals going about their business. He rubbed a salve on the cut on his cheek, hissing at the sting of it, grateful it wasn’t worse. 

He was riding atop Maddy now, shoving food into his mouth, drinking as much as water as he could, and he could feel it bolstering both of them. The sun was shining, merry as ever, at odds with their fearful mood, with the situation they had found themselves in. They needed to get to people, a large group, or, better yet, a city, where they could find a place to slip away. They couldn’t stay out here, fleeing from armies and haggard refugees both. It would end with them dead.

Maddy perked up at the sound of two people talking, and Jaskier could just about see a lovely little home through the trees, and he was already trying to figure out how to beg a night in the barn he just spotted from the couple who were not quite arguing, when Maddy’s head jerked to side, her whole torso swelling as she took in a deep breath. 

“What?” Jaskier was suddenly afraid again, his own head swinging around. “Maddy, darling, what is it? Is it more soldiers? Dear, my heart,  _ answer me!”  _

She shook all over, nearly throwing him right off her back, and took off, and it was hope writhing it’s way around their insides, joy and disbelief shooting like stars behind his eyes, and what could have brought such a dramatic mood swing about? Jaskier couldn’t smell things like his other half could, though she could spend all day describing scents to him, and he could register a familiar enough smell he simply couldn’t understand what it could possibly be. 

He brought a hand up to shield his face from errant branches, ducked down to avoid losing his whole head, trying to get angry but unable to hold onto the emotion when Madeliene was so inexplicably happy. They were making an ungodly amount of noise as they loped through the forest, and they really hadn’t rested enough after their last little jaunt, Jaskier already feeling the burn of exertion. 

Whatever she had smelled had better be worth this.

*--*

Geralt clutched his Child Surprise to him, her little arms wrapped so tightly around him he could hardly breathe. Of course, it was just as likely that it was only him being a stone’s throw away from death a few hours ago. Jaskier would have laughed at him, either for being poetic or for being overly pragmatic. 

Ciri was not weeping, but her breathing was ragged, and she stank of days old fear, of days of travel under the mild aroma of whatever soap she’d used to clean her hair, nearly as silver as his own, nearly as golden as her mother’s. Her daemon had shifted to a bird as soon as she had spotted Kalena, and they were both nestled in said hair, the smaller daemon tucked under Kalena’s wing. 

He was shushing her, rocking back and forth, hoping to settle the shaking in her shoulders, when the sounds of something very large crashing through the foliage rolled over the both of them. Damn the venom, damn his slowed responses and reflexes, and he pushed the girls behind him, determined to fight off whoever it was. 

His stomach dropped somewhere below his knees when a very large, very familiar bear burst out a nearby copse of trees, the person on her back swearing profusely, both so uncharacteristically worn out and ragged he almost didn’t believe it was them at first. But there couldn’t be any doubt, when the man lowered his arm, blinking in surprise at the sight before him.

“Geralt?”

*--*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come and yell at me on twitter @gotfanfiction
> 
> or don't 
> 
> i'm not ur parental figure of choice


	8. Tears and Endings and Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He’d folded up his jacket, ruined already, to sit on it, Maddy laying flat on the ground, as flat as she could get, exhaustion pulling at them harder now that they felt safer, braced at his back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally done and I'm actually crying bc this feels weirdly like saying goodbye. Thank you to everyone who read and left kudos or comments; I appreciate every single one of you. It's been almost a year and while this fic isn't the longest it is the one that meant the most to me. Here's to friends and soulmates and destiny 💜

Marcelina had shifted again and curled into Ciri’s collar, warm and snug, pale fur glimmering in the firelight. Jaskier's surprise entrance hadn't been met with a sword, or an  _ igni, _ and he supposed, as he gazed at the sleeping princess, Geralt’s Child Surprise, that he should be grateful for that. He was having a bit of trouble focusing on anything besides the Witcher and his daemon, the former staring into the fire and the latter perched upon his head. 

Because that was a thing Kalena could do, now, being a bird; it made sense,  _ obviously, _ that she could do all things birds could do, what with her somehow having  _ shifted into a fucking bird, at some point, good gods. _

Jaskier didn't think his legs had stopped shaking since he'd heard Kalena’s raspy voice coming from a thrush the size of… well, he supposed she was the usual size that a thrush would be, he wasn't known for his bird knowledge, outside of which ones he liked the taste of best. He’d folded up his jacket, ruined already, to sit on it, Maddy laying flat on the ground, as flat as she could get, exhaustion pulling at them harder now that they felt safer, braced at his back. 

They weren't  _ saying _ anything, not a word between them since Kalena's sharp cry of, "Jaskier! Madeleine!" And he despised it, this uncomfortable silence, the sounds of their breathing raking hot nails down his nerves, and him too much of a coward to break it. 

Geralt had looked shocked, at them showing up, at Ciri knowing them well enough to fling herself bodily at Jaskier the moment his feet returned to the earth, at the general sorry state they were in. But while he responded to Ciri asking how they knew each other, he kept his eyes down, face turned away, and it curdled some small hope that had lived deep within Jaskier, "We used to travel together. He was there when your parents were married, when I claimed the Law of Surprise." 

_ We used to travel together, _ and it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth, either, but she had accepted it, and Jaskier was shocked, himself, at Kalena’s transformation, at everything that had happened in the last few weeks, at seeing Geralt again.

"What happened to your face?"

Jaskier jumped, frowning, the scab pulling at his skin. "What happened to your  _ everything?"  _

"Ghouls. And prison." 

He was gaping, but Maddy saved the day, as was her wont, huffing into the dirt and leaves. "In that order?" 

Kalena jumped off Geralt's head, and he winced at that, her claws still sharp no matter her size or shape, and hopped over to Jaskier to peck at his boot. "No. We got tossed in a cell when we arrived at Cintra to collect Ciri, escaped, and then ran into the ghouls. We almost died, but the ghouls were taken care of." 

Of course they'd be more worried about that. As opposed to nearly dying from ghoul venom. Of course. Maddy shifted a bit closer before she replied, his darling, he loved her so much. "And you still managed to find her, here in the woods." 

Geralt flinched at that, but Kalena had always, in her way, been the bolder of the two, and she said, as she fluttered up to settle on Jaskier's knee, "And you found us. The way you always do, when we miss you the most." 

And there were tears, now, Kalena peeping in alarm, and was it strange that he missed her snarling and snapping? He decided it wasn't, hand covering his mouth to try and keep the sobs at bay, Geralt lurching up and over to wrap his arms around Jaskier's shaking shoulders, awkward knees pressed too close, pinching at his thigh, still never close enough. 

"I'm sorry, Jaskier. I'm  _ sorry,  _ I missed you the moment you went away, I missed you all this time. I didn't  _ mean _ it, any of it." Geralt was talking into his hair, uncaring of how filthy and greasy it must be, hands tight on him, arms even tighter. "I'm a fool, and an idiot, and I've loved you for years, and spent all of them terrified you'd wake up and leave me. You don't have to forgive me, you don't have to stay, you don't have to be with me, but I missed you, my friend.  _ We missed you both." _

What a sight they must have made, two men grown, bawling like babes, their daemons pressed in around them as they clutched at each other, frantic with joy and grief, cracked open and apart, but it was just them underneath, together as they were meant to be.

*--*

Kalena would sing along with Jaskier, flying overhead, claiming she was scouting for danger, and to her credit she most likely  _ was, _ but Geralt knew she was flying for the joy of it. Yennefer raised a tired brow at his expression; her exhaustion was the only thing keeping them safe from her sharp tongue, but Geralt found himself missing it. 

Ciri had led them to her, half in a daze, Marcelina shifting rapidly in between a bird and a snake, heedless of Jaskier and Geralt chasing them in a panic. They found her patting at Yen's face, still and pale and covered in blood, Serafina curled up tight, shedding dust, on her chest. 

They couldn't stay put, so Geralt tied her to Roach's saddle, sat Jaskier behind her to keep her steady and upright, Serafina safely stowed in a bag, and put Ciri atop Maddy. It was a horrible way to spend two days, everyone anxious about their slowed pace, flinching at every sound, until Yennefer awoke with a choked gasp. 

Geralt felt a little badly about how quickly he was forcing their group to travel, all of them injured in some way, all of them tired, but winter was close, and getting closer with every day. 

Jaskier would sit next to him at night, head on his shoulder, and whisper poetry to him. Promises, too. It was so strange, to feel so happy, now, when danger was breathing down their necks, two of them still shaky from very nearly dying, but he felt warmer and lighter than he had almost all of his life, at peace with Kalena, Jaskier close and planning to get closer. 

For now he kept the pace, home just around the corner.

*--*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again, so so much, and I hope you know how much I love you.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I have no beta, and would appreciate being notified about any unsightly mistakes <3


End file.
